


Storm Song

by thechemicalgirl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Curse Breaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fate & Destiny, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Smut, Mutual Pining, Supernatural Bonds, The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechemicalgirl/pseuds/thechemicalgirl
Summary: "I have never let any dh'oine touch me like that", he spoke honestly, letting the words hang between them for a while. "Don't think I feel great about the fact that it's you I am losing my dignity in front of.""But do you trust me not to use it against you?" Vernon asked. The tension in the air appeared once again and waiting for Iorveth's answer seemed to be stretching forever.The elf pulled back entirely, grabbing one of the tree branches and clumsily standing up, leaving Roche on the ground."No", he admitted, but right after that he hesitantly added: "But I am getting there."or the events taking place after the end of The Witcher 2: Roche and Iorveth's paths cross again, and it turns out that the commander of the Blue Stripes is the only person who can save his greatest enemy's life.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold, Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Comments: 16
Kudos: 105





	Storm Song

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first ever Iorveth x Roche fanfiction! I wanted to thank wonderful @Squoxie, whose story about those two motivated me to finish my own work, which I am now posting here. 
> 
> The story takes place in The Witcher 2: Assassins Of Kings universe, but it's obviously purely fictional, so if anything described here interferes with the game's canon, then forgive me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading!

Vernon wasn't certain why he had chosen to travel through Upper Aedirn after the whole political affair in Loc Muinne, but he was absolutely certain that he had made a tremendous mistake. He didn't own a horse that could carry his supplies, which meant he either had to hunt whenever he could and eat his quarry before heading off further, or simply try to go without food for as long as possible because he definitely wasn't going to drag anything besides his steel swords with him. It would only slow his already relatively slack pace and make eventual fighting far more difficult, which was something he couldn't risk. The area wasn't really dangerous anymore, not since Geralt had done the literal impossible and broken the curse, the phantom fog surrounding local gorges and woodlands long gone. Vernon obviously wasn't afraid of running into a draugir or a wraith, but who knew what else could have been lurking among the trees - he had heard enough stories of lone travellers wandering too deep into the wilderness and ending up as a bloody corpse in some pit, and he had also seen enough of said corpses himself.

Still, the forest seemed remarkably peaceful, almost suspiciously so, the early morning light peeking through the leaves and gently warming his face. He could hear the distant sound of a stream or perhaps even a waterfall, which meant he would finally be able to clean at least a fraction of the dirt and sweat covering his exhausted body off. Vernon picked up his pace, the corner of his lips involuntarily lifting in a wry smile. That was his life now; no longer a respected commander of King Foltest's special forces, no longer a relentless soldier fighting in Temeria's name, but a goddamn lost wanderer in a country inhabited by non-humans, who would mostly gladly rid him off his head. He supposed it shouldn't come as a surprise, he had been making Aen Seidhe's lives an absolute hell for a good few years and he wasn't going to deny it.  
Thank Melitele most of them had long abandoned forests and moved either to Vergen or other small towns where people didn't openly frown upon elves. 

After roughly ten minutes he reached a waterfall, which was clearly visible amid the tall pine trees. It wasn't ideal as potential menacing creatures would definitely be able to see him bathing, naked and defenceless, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he started undressing, taking his chaperon and jacket off.  
The water was freezing cold, but it wasn't the first time Vernon was forced to grit his teeth and deal with the harsh circumstances - as a commander of the Blue Stripes he had spent more nights on the hard ground, and mornings rubbing his chest clean with melting snow than he could count. At least this time the scenery was more welcoming, gorgeous greenery all around and gentle breeze hitting his skin instead of prickly mountain air. Sometimes he thought he was able to understand why elves felt so connected to their home, there was indeed something like an ancient and glorious presence in the atmosphere whenever he set foot in the wild woods. 'Or maybe I'm just getting old', Vernon thought to himself, splashing water on his face. He and non-humans have been on the opposite sides for so long that it wasn't likely they understood each other in the slightest. 

A sudden rustle coming from the shrubbery nearby made him quickly snap out of his thoughts and reach for the steel sword that he'd left on a rock within his reach. Fuck, he was absolutely going to have to fight an endrega or a nekker naked, could the start of his day have been better? He unhurriedly stepped out of the water, sword raised in front of his chest, but whatever was hiding in there had gone completely silent. It made him somehow uneasy since a monster would have probably already attacked, it wasn't typical for them to stay quiet and wait for their prey to approach. And if the thing skulking in there wasn't a monster, then... 

"Vernon Roche!" A voice he knew all too well called as soon as he aggressively undrew the leaves blocking his view. He was greeted by a twisted, mocking smile and a green eye gleaming mischievously, the sight he would have never expected here, in the forest of Upper Aedirn. 

"Just don't give me the same speech that you performed in Flotsam", he groaned. "What the hell are you doing here, Iorveth?" 

He immediately noticed that there was something off about the elf, his bandana gone and revealing the scarlet scar, an empty eye socket and a pale, sweaty forehead. His breathing was shallow and uneven, and he appeared more vulnerable than Vernon had ever seen him before, during all the years of them fighting and trying to hunt each other down. 

"I could ask you the same thing, considering that you are standing in front of me fully naked", Iorveth laughed sharply, eyeing him up and down deliberately thoroughly. "You clearly haven't been eating well lately." 

"Fuck off", Vernon grunted, trying to ignore the utter embarrassment burning somewhere in his chest. 

Iorveth sighed heavily and pointed into the vague direction where his clothes were lying in a neat pile. 

"Go get dressed, I promise I won't try to kill you. I am too weak for that anyway." 

"Hey, what's going on with you?" Roche demanded, searching for any signs of injury or bleeding. "Are you hurt?" 

"Get dressed and maybe I will even let you polish me off", the elf muttered, and Vernon had a weird impression that he was being serious. He wanted to object, but his already wounded dignity forced him to simply nod and slowly walk back to the edge of the water, never lowering his sword for even a moment. When he realised that Iorveth really wasn't planning on assassinating him, he turned his back to him and began throwing his clothes on as quickly as possible. 

"Alright, I'm not naked anymore!" He yelled, bending down to gather his weapons. The lack of answer should have been enough for him, but he still furrowed his eyebrows and went back to investigate the exact same bush where Iorveth had been only minutes earlier. 

The fact that the elf was gone shouldn't have come as a surprise, but Vernon still felt something strangely similar to disappointment. 

•••

He promised himself he wouldn't go searching for Iorveth, just simply continue his travel to wherever his legs were going to lead him to, but it had been a lost cause from the start. As the past few years had shown, he could never stay away from the elf for long, especially when he knew that the other man was avoiding him on purpose. 

"For fuck's sake, don't be a coward and come out!" he yelled, his deep voice echoing in the quiet forest. "I am not going to kill you when you are wounded!" 

The overwhelming silence was the only answer he got, and the feeling of frustration began to settle deep in his bones. Every time they had fought each other, they ended up letting one another go after all, no matter how close they'd come to finishing things for good with one more measured stroke of a sword. It was almost an unspoken pact between the two of them; a human that killed elves and an elf who despised humans, sworn enemies, but also two men who showed each other mercy more times than they could count. Vernon wondered sometimes whether if it had been absolutely necessary, would Iorveth be able to kill him? Because he honestly wasn't sure if he would have been able to kill the elf anymore. Not after everything they had gone through, losing so many soldiers and friends, becoming public enemies... Not after becoming one another's reflection. 

"Will you shut up and stop screaming? Seriously, I just saw a deer run off in panic because of all the noise you're making", a voice hissed from above him, and even though it was as pretentious as it comes, Roche breathed out in relief. 

"Why are you hiding from me?" 

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, I am not hiding from you and your naked rear", Iorveth snorted, looking down at him. "I was simply making sure you won't interfere with the way I want to leave this world." 

Vernon sighed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

"Do you ever speak normally? What are you ploughing talking about?" 

Iorveth started humming quietly, a melancholic melody. He didn't respond nor made any move to climb down from the branch he was sitting on. 

"Damned elves", Roche muttered, making sure it was loud enough for the other man to hear. "With all your ridiculous talk and..." 

"I told you the truth, what else are you expecting?" Iorveth finally seemed to have become annoyed enough to say something. "I am dying and I want to die in the forest, without having to listen to your endless complaining. Destiny certainly is a cruel mistress, I wondered if someone would come and try to help me, but I honestly didn't think it would be you, Vernon Roche." 

"Well, I am all you have now, so come down and let me see your wound!" 

"It is not a regular wound from a hunting knife or a sword", the elf spoke softly, tilting his head up towards the sky. "I have been cursed while helping Geralt in Loc Muinne, by your good friend Dethmold." 

Vernon stood very still for a moment, trying to fully understand what Iorveth had just implied. Was it even possible that he'd crossed paths with the sorcerer before the latter was killed? And why would Dethmold even want to put a curse on the commander of Scoia'tael? 

"Alright, I am not saying I don't believe you, but you have to get down from there so I can try to see how to help you."

"I don't need your help", Iorveth growled, but he began clumsily climbing down the pine tree, all of his usual gracefulness and elegance gone. Watching him in this state almost made Vernon feel like he was intruding something, like this sight was never meant for his eyes. When the elf reached the bottom branches, he reached out and offered his hand for support, and the other man accepted his help, but not before pointedly rolling his eye. They leaned against one another for a moment, Iorveth breathing heavily and turning his head the other way, Roche's arm curled carefully around his back. 

"Do you want to sit down? I need to hear everything about your meeting with Dethmold." 

"I'm fine, we should start walking towards Vergen and I can start explaining everything along the way", Iorveth answered, clutching his ribs with a grimace that told a whole different story, but Vernon didn't have the energy to argue with him any longer. "Well, when Geralt and Triss headed off to attend the summit of Loc Muinne, I was unfortunate enough to stumble upon some very kind Nilfgaardian knights, who decided that five men attacking one was somehow fair..." 

"Are you serious? How haven't I heard anything about you being captured?" Vernon frowned, trying to recall the locals talking about a non-human seen in the city. "Were you hiding in the sewers or what?" 

"Close enough", Iorveth gave him a lopsided grin. "But that's not important. After they defeated and tied me up I passed out for a while, and when I woke up this bloede reptile was standing above me, I think there was also a child with him." 

"Anaïs La Valette! He abducted her, that's why I killed him later... with great pleasure, I have to admit." 

Iorveth raised his eyebrows, visibly surprised. 

"I didn't know he was dead, but I guess that's better for everyone. Anyway, he was whispering about 'fucking Aen Seidhe' and 'a disgrace to this kingdom', the usual things my people hear whenever we have the displeasure of facing dh'oine. But then he said something else... I couldn't understand most of it, I guess it was some kind of a spell. And right before leaving with the girl, he told me that 'I need to be forgiven'. That's everything", Iorveth finished with a snarl, which made his scarred face appear even more distorted. He had visibly run out of energy, so Vernon put a hand on his arm and gestured to the nearby fallen tree trunk. 

"Hey, we should rest for a while. Why do you want to go to Vergen?" 

"I have heard that Triss Merigold was going to head there after Loc Muinne, maybe she will be able to help if you aren't going to let me die in peace. And let's be honest, it's not like I would be welcome anywhere else." 

They both sat down on the log, silence falling between them and hanging heavily in the air. Vernon thought they were probably thinking alike - what were the odds of them meeting here and becoming hesitant companions? Still, it happened and he wasn't sure if it could be called anything other than Destiny's bizarre joke. 

"Did you really want to die?" he asked after a while, turning to look Iorveth straight in the eye. The elf looked even more pale and drowsy than before, but the green of his iris had the same fire to it as always, which calmed Roche down.

"It's not like I am as young and useful as I once was", he admitted. "The Scoia'tael won't be united again for a long time, there is nothing to fight for. I thought about what I would leave behind and accepted my fate... Before you came along and started to bother me, obviously." 

They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Vernon started laughing quietly, shoulders shaking. Iorveth glared at him at first but soon joined, his laughter awfully weak and broken by dry coughs once in a while, but laughter nonetheless. Any passersby would have certainly thought they were drunk, a Temerian commander and an elf, both bent in half and chuckling. 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm kind of glad I stumbled upon you this time", Roche breathed after they've calmed down. "It would be pathetic if you died because of some curse." 

Iorveth only nodded, but his smile seemed slightly absent. His remaining eye was shining in the daylight, and Vernon couldn't really tell if his barely visible tears were caused by the sun or something else. 

•••

"How far away are we from Vergen?" Roche asked after they've managed to gather themselves enough to continue travelling, even though Iorveth still appeared alarmingly lethargic. "And do you think you will be able to make it all the way to the town?" 

"About a day and a half on foot, but with your funereal pace, it might as well take two." 

"You didn't answer the second question." 

Iorveth sighed, clearly annoyed with Vernon's persistent concern about his state. 

"Do you want me to be honest or try to satisfy you?" 

"You have never tried to bend the truth to satisfy me in your life, let's not start now", the commander replied, shaking his head. "I know that you would much rather for someone else to be here with you, or maybe no one at all, and believe me when I say that this situation isn't ideal for me either. But unfortunately, we have crossed paths again and it seems that we have to work together unless you want to end up as one of the local rotfiend's meals, alright?" 

The elf stayed silent for a minute, but then unexpectedly extended his hand towards Vernon and nodded. 

"You know Roche, for the first and hopefully last time ever, I have to agree with you", he drawled and clasped Vernon's hand in his, shaking it so vigorously that the gesture was almost on the edge of being violent. "Let's make a deal. You will stop asking me how I am feeling every five minutes and I will try to respond to you as politely as I can." 

"I don't want you to be polite, I want you to be fucking honest! If you are going to die on me, then I have to be prepared for that possibility. Think of a better deal." 

Iorveth narrowed his eye and let go of his hand, nervously chewing on the inside of his scarred cheek. 

"How about I tell you that yes, I actually feel like I am about to die and every single organ inside me is burning with a real fire? And the second part of this deal is that you finally shut the fuck up and let me walk in peace", the elf spoke, voice cold and leaving no room for an argument. Vernon furrowed his eyebrows but didn't say anything, knowing better than to test Iorveth's limits. 

It was obvious that his companion absolutely despised looking vulnerable in front of anyone, and accepting his former enemy's help was already a huge challenge that hurt his pride. He must have been serious about how horrible he felt though, because, despite all the insults and snarky comments he threw at Roche, he allowed him to become his temporary guardian without much hesitation. 

"Fine, I won't force you to talk about it anymore. Tell me about something else though, why didn't you simply move to Vergen along with other Scoia'tael after Saskia had become the queen? I thought you were one of the elves who were especially passionate about helping her win the crown." 

"That's true, but you dh'oine will never understand what freedom means to us, old Aen Seidhe. I could move to this minor town meant for non-humans, but it would feel like suffocating after a while and I need to have space, live somewhere where my presence isn't merely allowed because other elves are there", Iorveth answered, straightening his shoulders. "Besides, if you think dwarves enjoy my company you are greatly mistaken. The amount of my enemies in the kingdom definitely outnumbers your years on this earth." 

Vernon laughed, shaking his head.

"Didn't you literally save their rears during the battle against Henselt? If not for your archers, Vergen would not look the way it does today." 

"Perhaps you're right, but apparently doing one good thing doesn't erase years of violence and hostile terms." 

They walked the next few kilometres in silence, until the sun moved high up on the sky and their stomachs started showing signs that hunting would be a good idea. Vernon simply tilted his head towards the further trees and headed off to try and find something they could eat for an early dinner, trusting Iorveth not to escape as soon as he turned his back to him this time. A week earlier he would have laughed if someone told him he was going to be travelling through the woods with a Scoia'tael commander, let alone trust him with anything, but it turned out the future was far more surprising than he could have ever predicted. 

He wondered if Iorveth meant something else by saying that "doing one good thing doesn't erase years of violence" though, because it seemed to strangely apply to their current fragile companionship. 

•••

After about an hour he managed to catch one rabbit, which wasn't exactly impressive and he was certain Iorveth was going to mercilessly tease him about it. He walked back to the place where they parted and to his surprise, the elf was sat with his back against the tree, eyes closed and a troubled expression on his face. 

"I'm back!" he shouted, approaching the other man carefully since he couldn't be sure if there wasn't anything wrong with him, or if the curse didn't have the ability to make him behave unexpectedly violent. Iorveth didn't move until Vernon crouched in front of him, the soldier's closeness causing him to suddenly open his eye and inhale sharply, clearly panicked. 

"Hey, what's going on? Were you asleep?" 

Iorveth didn't answer, shaking his head frantically. After a few tense seconds he leaned forward, and before Vernon could tell if he was about to attack or move him out of the way, the elf wrapped his arms around his neck, holding on like it was the only thing connecting him to reality.  
Roche literally stopped breathing for a moment, not knowing how to respond to this abrupt gesture, but after all, he decided that hugging Iorveth back was going to be the best solution. The other man's chest was heaving against his own, and his breath was a constant source of trembling warmth on Vernon's neck. The whole situation was strange, to say the least, but there was also something awfully tender in the way Iorveth trusted him enough to show weakness like that, trusted him to hold him and protect him from whatever demons were currently haunting his thoughts. 

"Iorveth, what's going on?" he repeated, moving his hand up and down the shaken man's back. "What did you see?"

He could physically feel the tremor that went through Iorveth's body, so he pulled back a little to be able to also see his face. They looked at each other and there was something electric in the air between them, but the illusion was soon broken by the elf speaking in an uneven voice. 

"I fell asleep for a while, I think, and I had a dream..." he paused, turning his face away from Vernon. "I was back in Flotsam and you were also there, the forest was burning... And then I was somewhere entirely different, fighting with that bloede dh'oine who ridded me of my eye years ago. It isn't a particularly nice memory and elven dreams are usually very realistic and powerful." 

Vernon nodded, not really knowing what to say. 

"I'm sorry." 

Iorveth laughed, but it lacked the usual venom. He rested his forehead on Roche's shoulder and sighed, obviously drained and weaker than before. 

"This soldier wasn't at all different from you, he just had the luck to harm me in a worse way than you ever could", he muttered. "You dh'oine are so similar, but you are also quick to judge one another for things you wouldn't hesitate to do yourself. Isn't that strange?" 

Vernon remained silent because deep down he knew there was some truth to Iorveth's words, it wasn't like he couldn't have gauged the Scoia'tael commander's eye out by accident during one of their fights. It was simply that at this moment, holding the sick elf in his arms, he couldn't imagine how anyone could cause so much harm to this beautiful creature. 

"Are you getting soft in your old age, Roche? You aren't protesting and calling me a whoreson, that's new." 

"And you are here, clinging to me like a damsel in distress, yet I am not saying anything about that." 

Iorveth frowned, loosening the hold he had on Vernon, visibly embarrassed. 

"I have never let any dh'oine touch me like that", he spoke honestly, letting the words hang between them for a while. "Don't think I feel great about the fact that it's you I am losing my dignity in front of." 

"But do you trust me not to use it against you?" Vernon asked. The tension in the air appeared once again and waiting for Iorveth's answer seemed to be stretching forever. 

The elf pulled back entirely, grabbing one of the tree branches and clumsily standing up, leaving Roche on the ground. 

"No", he admitted, but right after that he hesitantly added: "But I am getting there." 

•••

After their modest dinner and walking for another few hours, the sun began slowly setting and painting the forest in golden shadows. Iorveth finally seemed to have calmed down, his expression relaxed and slightly absent, face contracting in pain only once in a while. 

"We have another hour before it will become completely dark, then we have to find someplace to light a fire", Vernon noted. "I will watch the area during the night, you should get as much sleep as you can." 

Iorveth shot him a sideways glance, raising one eyebrow and curling his lips in a typical mocking smirk.

"Vernon Roche willing to sacrifice his rest for some pathetic non-human, I can't believe my pointy ears! Are you certain you haven't been cursed as well?" 

"Yes, I am", Roche grunted, rolling his eyes. "Are you always this prickly? Geralt claimed you were actually quite a good companion once you stopped throwing insults around like it was your job." 

"Gwynbleidd isn't a dh'oine like you", Iorveth responded in a voice that was weirdly warm. "He saved my life more than once and he is above things that bother humans, such as the race of who he is helping." 

"Are you his boyfriend now or what?" 

Iorveth glared at him. 

"You are truly immature Roche, more than I thought. No wonder Geralt decided to join Scoia'tael instead of sticking with you, your sorry unit and this little whore you always have glued to your side. Where is she now anyway, finally got tired of your enormous ego?" 

Vernon stopped walking, immediately grabbing the other man's arm and halting him too. He felt anger exploding inside his chest and even though he knew that provoking him was Iorveth's goal, he couldn't control himself. 

"How dare you speak of Ves like that, you don't fucking know her! She is safe in Temeria, but that's none of your concern", he growled, grabbing the front of the elf's coat in a tight grip. "Is this how you show gratitude for my help? Because trying to annoy me by insulting my friends is low, even for you." 

"Sensitive topic, right?" Iorveth hissed, their noses almost touching. "At least you can't insult my people in return, because most of them are dead thanks to your soldiers." 

Both of them stared at each other furiously, before the Scoia'tael commander turned away and started coughing, trying to catch his breath.  
Vernon instantly let go of him, avoiding his gaze as he bent down to gather some dry branches. 

"Help me or just sit down and shut the fuck up, I don't really care." 

The elf remained silent, sitting down on a nearby log and looking down at his boots. He didn't say anything for a long time, leaving Roche to start a fire and cook the rest of the rabbit he caught earlier by himself. Soon they were surrounded entirely by darkness, the fire being the only source of light and warmth. 

"You should lay down", Vernon suggested dryly, adding some smaller branches to make the flames burn brighter. "I will watch the area as I said earlier." 

"Why don't you just leave me here?" Iorveth asked, moving to curl up near the fire and tightening his green coat around his shivering body. "I know you hate me and that feeling is mutual." 

Vernon turned to look at him, taking in the trembling, pale form of one of the bravest man he has ever known. The sight was genuinely pathetic and something in his heart tightened, causing him to walk over and sit next to the elf. He hesitantly reached out and touched his shoulder, feeling him abruptly tense up. 

"You are trying everything to make me hate you, but nothing is the same as it was in Flotsam or ever before, Iorveth", he answered. "We are both wanted men now, it's us against the whole world and we can either try to work together or just take out our swords and kill each other right there." 

Iorveth closed his eyes and shivers began wrecking his body even more, so Vernon decided to do the only sensible thing and lay down next to him, providing some of his own warmth. 

"I won't forget about all the things you did to me and my people", the elf whispered, turning to him and burying his face in Roche's chest. 

Funny how they said all those hurtful things, but their bodies pressing together told an entirely different story, Vernon thought. It was almost unbelievable how two enemies could offer one another so much comfort and reassurance. 

"I won't forget about what you did either, but we could try to move past it, right? For now, the most important thing is to break the curse Dethmold put on you." 

They didn't speak any more, but stayed curled against each other the whole night, unconsciously trying to make the other man feel as safe as it was possible while travelling through the unknown. 

••• 

The first rays of sun found them back on their feet, travelling at a decent pace and slowly approaching Vergen, the terrain becoming rockier as they moved forward. 

"We should reach the town's gates in about three hours", Iorveth said, pointing west with one elegant finger. "The dwarves remember me, so there shouldn't be any trouble with them letting us in." 

Vernon shook his head, frowning slightly. 

"Actually, I have thought about it and the best solution will be if I escort you to the gates and leave you here with Triss. The Temerian soldier in a town full of non-humans isn't a good idea, they wouldn't want me here." 

"You can't be serious, you walked all the way through the woods with me just to flee when we reach the destination?" Iorveth asked, visibly shocked. "I could talk with the Scoia'tael and maybe you would even get a reward for rescuing their commander, isn't that tempting?" 

Vernon shrugged, walking quietly for a few minutes, the only sounds around them being wild birds' singing and dry branches cracking underneath their feet. 

"I am not doing it for money", he finally stated, slowing down to match his steps with the other man's. "I felt like this was a good opportunity to try and understand each other or whatever. Also... I didn't ever really want to watch you die, you know." 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but my intention never was to kill you either", Iorveth admitted. "Hunting you down was way too much fun... Strange how we're telling each other that after all those years, Roche." 

"Yeah, it really is." 

They continued to travel in comfortable silence as if their previous words were sort of an agreement, a promise that they wouldn't try to hurt one another with their words or actions again. This continued until they reached the edge of the forest, where the waterfall near Vergen could already be heard in the distance and the pine trees grew more thinly. 

"Alright, I think you should walk the rest of the way by yourself", Vernon spoke softly, turning to face the elf and extending his hand in his direction. "I'm glad I didn't leave you to die in this bush." 

Iorveth looked conflicted, his breath hitching slightly when he stepped closer to take Vernon's hand. They stared at each other for a while, the atmosphere becoming as electric as back when Vernon comforted him under the tree after his nightmare. 

They moved at the same moment, pulling one another close by their joined hands and connecting their lips almost aggressively, years of longing and hatred coming together in a single kiss.  
Roche felt like all air instantly left his lungs, leaving room only for Iorveth's taste, intoxicating and surprisingly sweet.  
After a few seconds, the kiss lost its original impact and their lips began moving far more gently, caressing and exploring with great diligence. Vernon couldn't comprehend how they had wasted so much time fighting, when they could have been doing that instead and judging by Iorveth's enthusiasm, he was feeling the same. 

"You are a bastard, Vernon Roche", the elf whispered against his cheek when they parted. "You absolute..." 

He never finished the sentence though, because the next moment his eye rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed, leaning his entire weight onto Vernon. The younger man panicked, catching him with his arm around Iorveth's shoulders, quickly leaning down and slipping the other one under the elf's knees, picking him up bridal style and carefully cradling his head.

"Fuck, did you have to pass out right before our destination? Now I have to walk to Vergen and stand in front of your Scoia'tael completely defenceless", Roche grunted, trying to get used to moving with dead weight against his chest. Iorveth's face was terrifically pale and some blue veins became visible under his missing eye, which made Vernon actually scared for his life. 

The rest of the way was kind of a blur and if somebody asked him about it later he wouldn't be able to describe anything except for the constant fear gripping his heart. He didn't stop once despite the burning ache in all of his muscles, and when he saw the stone walls of Vergen in the distance, he felt indescribable relief. 

"Hey, I am carrying the Scoia'tael commander who has been cursed!" he screamed, desperation creeping into his voice. "Please, send some help!" 

Thankfully, one of the dwarves heard him and gestured for the other guards to come over and remove Iorveth's unconscious body from his stiff arms. 

"Is Triss Merigold in town?" Vernon asked, out of breath.

"Yes, she arrived about four days ago with master Geralt, they are both staying in Phillipa Eilhart's former house." 

"Is the witcher still here?" 

"Yes, but he was going to leave Vergen in the evening, you can go and talk to him after we take the elf to the sorceress' Triss new residence", the kind-looking dwarf offered, pointing to the direction of the town's gates with his sword. "The Scoia'tael won't be too happy to see you though, especially since you've arrived here with their unconscious commander." 

Vernon only nodded, too exhausted to respond, and followed the guards carrying Iorveth. He couldn't do anything more to help him, but at least he made sure that his chances of survival were higher than in the forest. He sincerely hoped that Triss Merigold was going to be capable of breaking the curse and bringing his greatest enemy - and companion - back to life. 

•••

"Roche, what on earth are you doing in Vergen?" Geralt greeted him outside of the house, visibly surprised but also pleased to see his old friend. "Does it have anything to do with the fact that Triss is dealing with an unconscious Iorveth back there?" 

They shook hands and Vernon felt tiredness and fear slowly leaving him; it was good to finally see a friendly face after such a long time of travelling on his own, even if it was the face of a witcher who abandoned him to team up with Scoia'tael. 

"It's quite a complicated story, but it all comes down to Dethmold. He put a curse on Iorveth after he was captured in Loc Muinne, only Melitele herself knows why, and I found him while travelling through the forest, about a day by foot from here." 

"And instead of killing him, you decided to go the whole way to Vergen to get Triss to help him?" Geralt asked him, clearly sceptical, before shaking his head and smiling in delight. "I always knew there was some sort of connection between you two, kayran plough me if I'm wrong! You've let too many chances to end each other pass, it was obvious."

Vernon glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. 

"I am not cruel enough to kill a cursed, dying person, even if that person appears to be an elf." 

Geralt patted him on the back, his smile fading a bit and expression becoming more concerned. 

"I don't have to be a sorcerer to know what you're thinking", he muttered. "I am sure that Triss can think of a way to save him. She is a talented healer, even if she's weak from everything she's gone through in the past weeks, don't worry too much. How about we go and get some ale? Dwarves really do have an excellent taste when it comes to alcohol." 

"Thank you, but I think I would rather wait here, maybe Triss will need assistance or something", Vernon admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I'm worried about him Geralt, fuck, I have never seen anyone look so dead while still breathing." 

The witcher nodded, sitting down on a nearby stone bench and gesturing for him to do the same. 

"Then I will keep you company, it's never healthy to worry on your own." 

"Thank you", Roche mumbled, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. "It means a lot." 

They sat in silence after that, harsh alpine wind blowing around them and making breathing more difficult. Vernon didn't know how much time had passed before Triss stuck her head out of the door and called his name, but it seemed like an entire century. 

"Roche, could you come with me?" 

Geralt nudged his shoulder encouragingly, offering one of his rare, comforting smiles. Vernon stood up and followed the sorceress into the dimly-lit room, where his eyes immediately found Iorveth laying in the huge bed, covered almost fully by a purple duvet.

"I gave him a special mixture with wild ranogrin and other herbs to elevate his blood pressure a bit and cast a spell to relax his muscles, but I am afraid that's everything I can do at the moment", Triss said in a gentle voice, watching Iorveth's motionless form with concern evident in her gaze. "Did he tell you anything specific about the curse? Do you know at least part of Dethmold's words?" 

Vernon shook his head, moving to sit down on the bed, his thigh pressing against Iorveth's own. He desperately tried to recall their conversation about the events in Loc Muinne, but it felt like a thick fog had surrounded his mind. 

"Iorveth claimed that he couldn't understand most of what Dethmold was saying, it must have been a spell in a different language..." he paused, reaching out to press his hand against the elf's cold forehead. "Wait, I think he also said something about Dethmold telling him that he needed to be forgiven or something similar, I'm not certain." 

The red-haired sorceress sighed, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Then my potions and formulas won't really help in the long run, this is a perfect example of a personal curse. Dethmold knew something about Iorveth's past and wanted to make him obligated to fix it by using this complicated spell, we would have to figure out exactly what event needs to be brought up to break the curse", Triss muttered, lifting one hand to her lips and chewing on a nail, visibly thoughtful. "You said he was told he needed to be forgiven, right?" 

Vernon nodded, brushing some of Iorveth's black hair back from his cheek absently. The scar felt uneven and surprisingly soft beneath his fingertips and he realised he never bothered to ask how the elf got it. He's heard the stories, of course, but never from Iorveth himself. 

"He has so many enemies, some of them already dead, that it's practically impossible to find out who he needs to be forgiven by", he snorted humourlessly. 

Triss quickly shook her head.

"If that person was dead the curse wouldn't work in the first place, it's completely different from the curse that you've seen on King Henselt", she explained. "Dethmold was a powerful sorcerer, but that kind of a spell wasn't in his range. This curse is far less demanding, but unfortunately a tricky one... We'll figure something out, don't worry." 

Vernon smiled crookedly at her, thankful for the reassuring words, but still completely unconvinced. His eyes kept wandering back to Iorveth's ashen face and he couldn't help but feel that the other man was on the edge of leaving forever. 

"Can I stay with him for a while?" he asked, trying to ignore the way Triss looked at him - with understanding and pity of a mother watching her heartbroken son. "Please." 

"Of course, if you need anything I will be in the tavern with Geralt." 

Their eyes locked for a moment and even though no words were spoken, Vernon realized that the sorceress noticed more than he gave her credit for. She trusted him with Iorveth and he wasn't going to let her down.

•••

"What am I supposed to do if I lose you?" Vernon whispered when the red door clicked shut after Triss, leaning down to press his forehead against Iorveth's chest. It was raising and falling far too slowly for it to be considered normal, even though he knew the elven respiratory system didn't work quite the same way one belonging to a human did. "You've always been my greatest motivation to keep going, besides Foltest. I lost him and I can't lose you as well." 

He closed his eyes and remembered all the times they fought, called each other names that would make any decent person cover their ears, left scars on one another's body. He thought about the first time they ever faced each other, that immediate rush of heat that passed between them being an obvious sign of their deep connection, as much as they both refused to accept it. He thought about all his soldiers who had been killed by Scoia'tael, and also all elves who lost their lives because of the Blue Stripes, the numbers that made it impossible to remain indifferent when confronted with the scale of this conflict.  
When it came to Aen Seidhe and humans, peace never seemed to be an option, but now Vernon was beginning to understand the other side's perspective. What Iorveth had told him about freedom... It must have been terrifying to watch elven culture slowly become consumed by human hatred towards them, being forced to continue fighting for what they believed in after losing literally everything. He didn't think it justified what Scoia'tael had done to hundreds of his people, but he finally acknowledged that they weren't doing it purely out of spite. They wanted freedom, like every other creature on this earth. 

Iorveth's breath hitched slightly, causing Vernon to lift his head and look at him, searching for any signs that the elf was aware of what was happening around him. His vision was a bit blurred, and it wasn't until he felt a tear sliding down his chin that he realized he was crying. 

"Wake up Iorveth, please", he muttered, pressing a hesitant kiss to the other man's hollow cheek. He let himself get lost in the feeling of cold skin under his lips for a moment, before straightening up and adding: "I forgive you." 

Saying those words was an abrupt decision, but Vernon knew he'd done the right thing immediately after they left his mouth. Iorveth's breath hitched once again, but this time he started coughing as well, opening his eye and looking around in sheer panic. Roche took one of the elf's delicate hands between his, squeezing tightly and trying to make him focus. 

"Iorveth, you have to breathe", he muttered quietly, but he had trouble controlling his own voice. "We are in Vergen, you are completely safe." 

The Scoia'tael commander turned to look at him, and his expression could only be described as disbelieving. His voice was deep and hoarse when he first spoke: "Bloede dh'oine, how did you even get us here?" 

Vernon laughed, the sound breathy and desperate, before leaning forward to press his lips to the other man's. The kiss was anything but graceful, their teeth clashing and chests heaving, but it was more passionate and meaningful than any act of intimacy either of them has ever experienced. 

"I carried you in my fucking arms, like a dramatic damsel that you are", Roche panted against the elf's mouth. "I think I also accidentally lifted the curse." 

Iorveth shook his head, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into another heated kiss. 

They didn't seem to be able to break away from each other for longer than a few seconds and soon Vernon found himself on top of the elf, carefully running his hands along his slender, elegant body. He leaned down to nibble on the sharp tip of Iorveth's ear and was quickly rewarded with a beautiful sound that came out of the other man's mouth, something strangely similar to a purr. 

"So it's true that elves have sensitive ears", he chuckled, moving his lips lower and sucking a bruise on Iorveth's pale neck. 

"Shut up", his lover breathed, hands finding the collar of Vernon's shirt and trying to unbutton it clumsily. After the first three buttons gave in, he traced a finger across the soldier's collarbone, causing him to shiver violently. 

"You need to know that it has been a while since..." 

"Roche!" Geralt's voice called from behind the door. "Triss sent me to check on you!" 

The witcher let himself in but instantly froze at the sight of his friends in a rather suggestive position, both flushed and lying next to each other. He raised his eyebrows and laughed, almost bending in half and waving his hand into Iorveth's direction. 

"I've just listened to Triss explain how you are basically dead and now I walk in here to find you two ploughing? I see you are certainly making up for all the lost time." 

Iorveth smiled at him lazily, pointedly rolling his eye. 

"Don't be a prude Gwynbleidd", he said, stretching to press a kiss to Vernon's jaw, making the other man's cheeks turn crimson red. "Tell Triss we will join you in a minute, I think I owe her an acknowledgement." 

Geralt nodded, still clearly stunned. 

"Sure", he offered, walking back towards the door. "Honestly, you two in bed are a sight I would have never expected to see in my life... Please have in mind that this is also the bed Triss and I sleep in." 

After the witcher left, Vernon groaned in embarrassment, making Iorveth smirk. 

"Don't worry, vatt'ghern won't tell anyone", the elf assured him, but after a moment his expression became more serious. "We have a lot of things to talk about, don't you think, Roche?" 

"We do", the younger man sighed heavily, biting his lower lip. "But first let's explain some of it to Triss and Geralt, I wouldn't be able to be here with you right now if not for their help." 

They looked at each other for a moment and kissed one more time, lips far more careful and gentle than before. They got out of bed and fixed their clothes before walking out of the house, shoulder to shoulder, leaving every dwarf and elf along the way completely speechless.

•••

When they entered the tavern, the first thing Vernon noticed was how many dwarves actually lived in this small town - almost every table was entirely occupied by them, either laughing loudly and drinking obnoxious amounts of ale or playing dice poker, clearly invested in the game. Geralt and Triss were sat in the dimly lit corner of the room, an unmistakable pair, immediately standing out thanks to their strangely coloured hair and quiet presence. Vernon touched Iorveth's shoulder lightly, making the elf turn his head towards him and raise his eyebrows. 

"Why aren't there any Scoia'tael here?" he asked, pointing into the direction of further tables. "I thought they also lived in Vergen, you've said something about it yourself." 

Iorveth nodded, curling his lips into a proud smile. 

"My people are above this cheap entertainment, you won't find them in the tavern", he explained. "They mostly live in the houses just outside the town gates, closer to the forest, so they can experience at least part of their old life while here. Remember what I said about what freedom means to a true Aen Seidhe?" 

Vernon hummed in agreement as they made their way between drunken dwarves and wooden chairs, already noticed by Geralt, who stood up and waved his hand at them to join him.

"Well, those elves aren't the same as old Aen Seidhe, but they still feel this longing for freedom deep inside. They wouldn't all be ready to fight for it though, this life among other non-humans is good enough for them." 

They reached Geralt and Triss' table before Vernon could respond, the witcher immediately stepping forward and embracing Iorveth with all his remarkable strength. He patted him on the back a couple of times and pulled back, shaking his head. 

"I can't believe we meet here again, it's good to see you alive." 

To Roche's surprise, Iorveth smiled brightly and said something in Elder Speech, reaching out to grab his friend's hand for a moment. Geralt laughed and quickly hugged him once again, before turning his attention to Vernon. 

"I hope he didn't just insult me", the soldier muttered, rolling his eyes. "Am I the only one who doesn't know Elder Speech around here?" 

The witcher nodded, gesturing for them all to sit down, and pushing two mugs of ale into his and Iorveth's direction. Triss leaned forward a little, watching Vernon with outright curiosity. 

"How did you know it was you who Iorveth needed to be forgiven by?" she asked. "It's unusual to be able to figure that out without at least some use of magic." 

The elf instantly looked at him, visibly stunned. 

"Roche, is this how you broke the curse? I thought it was a potion or something like that, not you saying you ploughing forgive me! Bloede Melitele", he breathed, nudging Vernon's knee under the table with his own. "Tell us about the spell Dethmold used, Triss." 

"Well, as I have told Roche earlier, it was a quite complicated personal curse", the sorceress began, taking a sip of her ale. "Dethmold knew a thing or two about you and wanted to force you to fix a specific event from your life... Or, in this case, fix your relationship with a specific person." 

Iorveth stared at her, his hand unconsciously finding Vernon's and intertwining their fingers. He furrowed his eyebrows and swallowed before speaking: 

"Would you tell this was Destiny's work?" 

Geralt looked at him strangely, something softening in his eyes. 

"Iorveth, can I talk to you outside for a while?" he muttered. "It won't take long." 

The elf nodded, letting go of Vernon's hand and standing up to follow Geralt outside. His face was still pale and he appeared relatively weak, but the old fire returned to his eye, reminding Roche of the first time they had ever seen each other; he was beautiful, even more now than ever before. 

"You know what the legends say, right?" Triss asked him softly once both men disappeared behind the door of the tavern, leaving the two of them alone. "Breaking a curse like that unites souls in a way that nothing can destroy... The bond that formed between you and Iorveth is something none of us can fully understand." 

Vernon grimaced, turning to watch the dwarves merrily arguing about their game of dice poker. 

"They are just legends", he stated. "I never really believed in any of them." 

The sorceress looked at him meaningfully, but by the time she could add anything else they were joined by Iorveth and Geralt, both unusually serious. Vernon guessed their conversation went the similar way that his and Triss' did, and judging by Iorveth's expression, he was as conflicted as Vernon. 

The witcher raised his eyebrows and made eye contact with Triss before speaking up: 

"Well, let's get more ale!"

•••

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, mostly on drinking and remembering old times, but as the sun began slowly setting Geralt and Triss announced that they needed to go back to their house.

"I was meant to leave tonight, but I suppose I can stay one more day in the light of everything that's happened", the witcher said, shaking Vernon and Iorveth's hands with a crooked smile. "What are you going to do now?" 

Vernon shook his head, shrugging and trying to smile back; he and Iorveth didn't as much as look at each other over the last few hours, and he honestly had no idea what to think about it. 

"Probably find a room in the tavern for the night, and then we will see where Destiny leads us to." 

Geralt nodded, turning back to leave and raising his hand in a last gesture of farewell. 

"Goodbye, Roche", Triss offered sweetly, turning to follow the witcher. "Va faill, Iorveth!" 

Vernon stood still and watched them leave for a while, the sun blinding him and only allowing to see the dark outlines of their figures. Suddenly a feeling that he couldn't describe hit him, and he knew that Iorveth was no longer standing by his side - it wasn't a physical sensation, but an abrupt lack of his presence made Vernon's heart miss a beat. He turned his head to look for the elf, but he was nowhere to be seen, the area strangely still and quiet. 

"Fucking hell", Roche groaned, rubbing his forehead and trying to calm his breathing down. He knew that he needed to find Iorveth and he had a strong intuition of where he could be. "Why do you always have to run from me?" 

The town's walls weren't exactly tall, and there were barely any dwarves guarding them at this time of the day. Vernon walked up the stairs and through a narrow passageway, reaching the place that Iorveth was talking about earlier, a couple of houses that were inhabited by Scoia'tael. He approached one of the elven women, who immediately raised her hands up and took a step back, visibly afraid. 

"I am not going to hurt you", he assured quietly, keeping the distance and shaking his head in sadness. Was that what the consequences of his actions were? Elves either instantly drawing their bows or recoiling in fear at the sight of him? "I am looking for Iorveth, did you see him here?" 

She quickly nodded, pointing into the direction of a nearby tunnel. 

"That's where he went", she whispered in a shaky voice, eyes wide and lips trembling. "He didn't speak to us." 

Vernon furrowed his eyebrows and bowed his head slightly in silent thanks before walking into the direction she showed him. He took out one of his steel swords as he opened the wooden door at the end of the tunnel, not sure what could be waiting on the other side, but it was simply an exit leading to the forest.  
He walked a few meters and realised that there was a constant hum in the distance, most definitely a waterfall, the same one that he and Iorveth first kissed next to; he became certain that this was where he had to search for the elf. 

Vernon wondered if he should call Iorveth's name, but finally decided against it and tried to stay as quiet as possible. He knew that elven hearing was incredibly sensitive, almost like that of a witcher, so the man would be able to hear him in the distance anyway, and he didn't want to draw the attention of potential monsters to himself. 

Reaching the waterfall took him about a quarter, and he had a strange sense of living through the same thing that he had experienced two days earlier, but this time Iorveth wasn't anywhere in sight. He was suddenly tempted to recreate the previous events and clean himself with the freezing cold water, forget about all fatigue for a while, so he started taking off his clothes and folding them at the edge of the waterfall.  
The force of the water pushed air out of Vernon's lungs for a moment, making him shiver and close his eyes, giving in to the sensation. When after a few minutes an unexpected heat started crawling up his neck, he immediately understood that he was being watched. 

"I know you are here Iorveth!" he shouted, not making any move to grab his sword and defend himself. "Stop acting like a coward!" 

The elf came out from the shadows of nearby pine trees and stopped in front of him with an unreadable expression. Vernon stared at him for a long time, daring him to say anything. 

"Are you going to run now? You've let me help you, save your life and take care of you just to throw everything away once you can walk again?" he growled, stepping out of the water to look motionless Iorveth straight in the eye. "You call me all those names, bastard, whoreson... But the truth is", he paused, reaching out and lightly pushing the elf backwards with a hand on his chest. "The truth is that you are exactly the same. You are too scared to let anyone help you and act like some kind of a hero... Well, you are certainly not one." 

Iorveth visibly gritted his teeth, turning his face away from Vernon to hide the tears that began filling his healthy eye. 

"Iorveth, I told you we don't need to forget about all the bad things we have done to each other", Roche pleaded, raising his hand up to cradle the other man's scarred cheek. "But you have to stop running and accept the fact that Destiny wanted us to end up here, as lovers, not as enemies." 

The elf struggled to breathe, shaking his head and reaching out to grab Vernon's throat, not yet trying to choke him but squeezing lightly. 

"It's impossible, dh'oine", he whispered frantically, lips trembling violently. "Elven soul could never connect with a human one." 

Vernon took his face into both of his hands then, forcing Iorveth to look directly at him. 

"I haven't heard about that either, but here we are", he spoke gently, feeling his own eyes fill with desperate tears. "We have to accept this Iorveth, and believe me when I say I am ready to sacrifice many things to be with you." 

The elf made a broken sound, something between a sob and a chuckle and threw himself at Vernon, pushing both of them back under the waterfall, freezing water hitting their faces and cleansing their tears as they kissed.  
It was full of emotion, a promise and forgiveness at the same time, and Roche didn't think twice before he started tearing at Iorveth's clothes, unbuttoning his coat and shirt and slipping them off his shoulders. Their lips didn't disconnect even once, not until Iorveth wrapped his slender fingers around Vernon's cock and began stroking him vigorously, making him gasp. 

Roche reached down to slip his own hand under the hem of the elf's pants, finding his already hard member and rubbing his calloused thumb right over the leaking head. Iorveth moaned and broke the kiss, leaning his head forward into the crook of Vernon's neck. 

"I'm sorry", he panted against the other man's wet skin. "I'm so sorry." 

Vernon didn't answer, simply speeding up his hand stroking the elf's cock, quickly bringing him to a shuddering orgasm. 

"It's okay", he muttered, turning his head to press a kiss to his lover's black hair. He reached down to put his hand over Iorveth's, that was still resting on his own aching member, and encouraged him to start moving it faster. Soon he reached his release as well and just stood under the waterfall for a while, letting the water wash over their exhausted bodies. 

After a few minutes, Iorveth pulled back from the embrace and tilted his head up to kiss Vernon deeply, his thin lips still trembling slightly. 

"Let's get out of the water and dry ourselves a bit", Vernon offered, taking the elf's hand and leading him gently. "And then we can finally talk." 

•••

When the sat next to each other at the edge of the water, rays of sun slowly drying their cold skin and clothes splayed out on a rock nearby, Vernon closed his eyes and spoke: 

"Well, what scared you so bad that you wanted to get away?" 

Iorveth stretched like a content cat and hesitantly laid his head on the soldier's arm, still a bit careful when it came to expressing open affection. 

"Geralt and I went to talk about the curse for a moment, as you know", the elf began. "I believe he reminded me of the same thing that Triss pointed out to you. There is a legend about breaking this type of a spell..." 

"Yes, Triss told me about it but honestly, I never really believed in stuff like that", Vernon admitted, furrowing his eyebrows. "Is this why you left? You think this is real and don't want to be forced to have a bond with me?" 

Iorveth instantly lifted his head up and looked him in the eyes, graceful and serious.

"I was scared because I'm certain that it's real - elven legends have always been very important to us, and there is always a lot of truth to them", he explained, putting one delicate hand on Vernon's cheek. "I have no idea how a scum like Dethmold knew about it, but he obviously knew that there was only one person that could save me when he cast this spell. He probably thought you wouldn't even try to do it, though." 

Vernon smiled, leaning forward to connect their lips, the kiss leaving them both a bit breathless. 

"So what are we going to do now?" he whispered when they parted. "Would you be willing to live in Vergen for a while, with me?" 

Iorveth tilted his face towards the sun, the golden glow making his face appear even more stunning than usual, crimson scar decorating his cheek looking like it was left there by a stroke of an unruly brush of some painter. He nodded wordlessly, reaching over to grab Vernon's hand. 

"Eventually I am going to want to go back to the forest, Roche", he said softly, turning his head to watch him. "Will you go with me when the time comes?"

"We can live on the road, stopping somewhere once in a while. And I am fine with living in the woods as long as your Scoia'tael don't decide to kill me." 

They stared at the waterfall for a while, both feeling wanted and at peace for possibly the first time in their lives. Their hands stayed joined until the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving the forest shadowy and quiet. 

"I think Destiny has done an exquisite job making us cross paths again", Iorveth muttered, smiling so sincerely that Vernon found it impossible not to respond with a smile. "I can't believe I'm going to share my life with a bloede dh'oine." 

A nightingale started singing its sweet melody in the distance, watching the two of the greatest enemies become two of the greatest lovers that this ancient forest has ever witnessed.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it to the end, I want to thank you with my whole heart! I would love to see how many people are still active in this fandom, so leave a comment or visit my tumblr @thechemicalgirl, where I also post stuff about The Witcher, it would be amazing to talk. 
> 
> I have played the game more than once, both Iorveth's and Roche's paths, and in this story I sort of combined the things that are happening on both sides, but hopefully it isn't too complicated. Honestly I started writing a completely different fanfiction with Iorveth and Roche, but then changed my mind and this is the final product... I have to admit I am pretty satisfied with it, though. Let me know what you think of it, I appreciate every kudos and comment. 
> 
> Lastly, I want to wish you all a fantastic day! I hope this story brings a smile to someone's face. 
> 
> Va faill,  
> Alexa xx


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